


Gift Gabbing

by bjfic_archivist



Category: Queer as Folk (US)
Genre: Canon, Drama, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2003-12-24
Updated: 2003-12-24
Packaged: 2018-12-27 00:15:28
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 20,736
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12069855
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bjfic_archivist/pseuds/bjfic_archivist
Summary: Justin shares his views on the act of gift giving with Brian, who then has a change of heart about the commercialization of Christmas and buys everyone, including Justin, a special gift.





	Gift Gabbing

**Author's Note:**

> Note from IrishCaelan, the archivist: this story was originally archived at [The Brian/Justin Fanfiction Archive](http://fanlore.org/wiki/Brian_Justin_Fanfiction_Archive). To preserve the archive, I began importing its works to the AO3 as an Open Doors-approved project in September 2017. I posted announcements, but may not have reached everyone. If you are (or know) this creator, please contact me using the e-mail address on [The Brian/Justin Fanfiction Archive collection profile](http://archiveofourown.org/collections/bjfic/profile).

One week to go until Christmas and I had a big dilemma…what to get my family for Christmas? I didn’t have much money, and I’ll be damned if I was going to let Brian support my need for gift giving. He didn’t even want to do Christmas beyond something for Gus. What a scrooge! 

But that’s not how I am; I wanted to give something to those that mean something to me. So yeah, no way was I letting him give me money for that and it was hard enough for me to afford something nice for Mom and Molly. I even scraped enough together to get my dad something even though I was sure he wouldn’t get me anything. But he’s my dad and it’s not about getting something in return, it’s just about giving. So I did.

And now I have this whole other family outside my mom and dad and Molly that I really wanted to show how I care about them, but there were so many and I just didn’t have the money. I knew I would have to make something for them, I just didn’t know what and the ideas weren’t coming. I was stuck and starting to stress out a little when I went to visit one of my professors at PIFA. He had this Christmas tree in his office that had these hand-painted ornaments on it. He said his daughter had made one for him every year and given them to him as a gift…each one symbolizing something important that had happened that year. 

I could tell he was very proud of those ornaments and cherished them not only because of the memories that they represented but because they were made especially for him by someone he cared about very much and who obviously cared about him too. I got an idea. I would make ornaments for my extended family. Make them special to the individual and hand-paint them myself. I was so excited and wanted to get started right away. I went to the store, bought all the supplies and started thinking about each person and what I was going to paint on their ornament. They needed to represent the way I see them. Let them know why they are special to me.

When I got back to the loft with all these thoughts running through my head, I noticed something that I’d never really thought about before. It was so bare. Brian never had much artwork in the loft but the naked guy painting had been so huge and had made such a statement that you didn’t really notice that it was the only artwork he had. Of course, he had the blue and now orange lights above his bed, but I’d call them mood lighting rather than art. I found myself thinking that he really needed to get some art for the walls and wondered what would go there. 

I had been struggling with what to get him for Christmas so staring at that wall, thinking about the ornaments and knowing that I wanted to do something very special for him...it all started to culminate into an idea. I called my professor and talked through it. I would need a place to work on it since I couldn’t work on it in the loft and the professor agreed to allow me to use his private studio. It was going to be a huge project and take up a lot of my time and I was worried about being able to pull it off with my other school projects. He reassured me that it could be done and even offered to allow me to drop my current project for his class and use this for my grade. I thanked him over and over, I was so happy. This was going to be great.

I sat down with all my ornament supplies and tried to push the thoughts of Brian’s gift out of my mind so I could concentrate on the gifts in front of me. I thought about Deb’s ornament first. There was so much that could represent Deb. I started laughing when some thoughts entered my mind that would not be appropriate to paint on an ornament that would hang on a Christmas tree for all to see. I mean, Gus might see it and now that she’s going to be a grandmother, the new baby might see it too. No, I had to keep it clean so recognizing her flare for word usage like she does on her t-shirts and buttons was out of the question. Well, she’s Italian and loves to cook Italian food. She and Vic even went to Italy once, but I didn’t think a bowl of spaghetti or a lasagna dish would look real good or be sentimental enough so I scratched that as well. 

The one thing that kept popping into my head every time I thought of Deb was just how much I love and appreciate her like she was my real mom. She can be a real pain in the ass, but she loves us all just like we were her own kids. She helped look after Brian when he was a teen, she took me in and she cares about Ted and Emmett. We are all her kids. She’s not a member of PFLAG because Michael is her son, she’s a member because we’re all her sons…daughters too ‘cause you have to add Mel and Lindsay into the mix as well now. Hell, even Vic. He may be her brother, but she takes care of him like a son. She’s our mom. A proud, PFLAG preaching, rainbow flag waving, button and t-shirt wearing, loud mouthed, crass, Italian mom and soon to be grandma. This was going to be easy. 

Deb’s ornament seemed to just flow right out of me once I dipped the brush into the paint. On one side I painted a t-shirt and on the t-shirt, I drew on outline of Italy. I colored in Italy in different colored stripes that matched the colors in the rainbow flag. On the other side, I painted two buttons like she wears on her vest at the diner and simply wrote MOM on one and GRANDMA on the other. I felt pleased with how it turned out and thought it neatly captured all that is Debbie Novotny to me. I signed the bottom of the ornament JTaylor Xmas 03 and hung it up to dry on a string that I tied up across the loft like Michael and I did when we first started working on Rage. 

That got me thinking about Michael and I kept coming up with the same two things…comic books and Brian…like those were the only two things that meant anything to him. I know that’s wrong, Michael has a lot going on in his life now but for the first two years that I knew him it was all about Captain Astro, his childhood hero, and Brian. Always about Brian.

Brian has always been a sore spot between Michael and me, and that may never completely go away but I think Ben’s love and Brian’s punch at that party may have finally gotten through to him. He’s got Ben, Hunter and a new baby on the way so he doesn’t have much time to worry about me anymore. He channels his Brian energy into Rage now. But this baby is a big deal to him and after seeing him run off with Hunter, I think he’s ready to be a dad now. To be the dad that he never had, even though in a strange, weird way, he’s got two. An image of one that never existed and one that existed but wasn’t the image that he wanted. So now I’m thinking there is more to Michael than those two things. It’s not about Captain Astro and Brian anymore; it’s about fatherhood and Rage. So that’s what I painted on Michael’s ornament.

On one side, Rage holding a slain Captain Astro in his arms. After all, it was Captain Astro’s death that eventually gave birth to Rage in the long run. I think Michael will understand the significance of the picture. Then on the other side, I painted a white formal dress military hat and a pair of white baby booties laying on top of a bright red sequined dress with the word DAD written underneath it. I was smiling when I signed the bottom. It was perfect.

I got up to hang it when the loft door opened and Brian came in.

"Hey," I said as I pinned it to the line.

"Hey," he said back, sneaking up behind me and snaking his arms around my waist. "What is all this? Have you taken up crafting now?"

Smart ass. "No," I answered rolling my eyes and nudging him with my elbow. "I'm painting tree ornaments for everyone as Christmas gifts.

He let out a sigh but tightened his grip around my waist. He thinks I don't know him but I do. The sigh was his mask, his non-belief in holidays; it's all such bullshit. As much as he wants me to believe that he's put out by my desire for gift giving, the tightened grip of his arms encircling my body told me differently. He likes that I'm like this; I know he does.

"You don't need to do that, you know. All you're doing by giving those gifts is admitting to the world that you've fallen victim to the commercialization of a religious event that happened long before you were even born."

I leaned my head back on his shoulder. "It's not about that. It's the spirit of Christmas that's important. The giving of a gift to show someone that you care enough about them to make a connection with them through the gift you give."

"That's just rhetoric that some advertising genius came up with years ago to get you to spend money." He squeezed a little tighter and pressed his hardening cock against my ass as he spoke. It made me smile. He didn't even believe his own bullshit anymore. He just couldn't seem to stop himself from saying it anyway.

"Yeah well, I don't have any money. That's why I'm making these. It's not about how much you spend; it's about the gift...the connection. I think you're just jealous that you weren't the advertising genius that thought of it first," I teased.

He huffed at me and pushed me away. I must have struck a truth nerve with that one. It made me giggle and he shot me a glaring look and leaned in closer to the two finished ornaments hanging on the line.

"I know you're dying to, so spill. What's the point in all this again?"

I looked over at him and he seemed genuinely interested in what I was doing so I decided to explain the best way I knew how so that he could relate to it. "It's about actions, Brian. You're showing someone what they mean to you." He turned and looked at me but didn't say anything. "Well you know the religious aspect of the holiday right? And even though it has been commercialized as you said, the fundamental basics from that are still there. The gifts the wise men brought were considered rare oils back then. They were symbolic to who that baby was, a rarity, and what he was to become. So gift giving to me isn't about buying someone a pair of socks...it's about making that connection. If you're gift is symbolic of who that person is or what that person means to you, the connection is them recognizing that you cared enough about them to take the time to understand a small part of them. That's where the phrase, 'it's the thought that counts' comes from as well."

He interrupted me and laughed. "No, I think the thought that counts phrase came from the person who got the socks."

"You may be right about that," I responded, laughing myself. 

He turned back to look at the ornaments for Michael and Debbie. He turned them around and looked at both sides. While looking at Deb's Italy side he asked, "I get that the striped colors are supposed to be the rainbow flag, but why have black? It's not one of the Pride colors?"

"It's supposed to be the 'Victory Over AIDs Pride flag. It’s the regular Pride flag but with the black stripe on the bottom. You know, fighting AIDs is close to her heart. You should go to the GLC more often and you'd know about these things." I kind of smirked at him.

He looked over at me. "Ahh." Then he turned back to look at Michael's. When he saw the 'dad' side, he turned back to me again. There was that look again. The one I get when I know I've done something or said something that made him proud of me. Then I felt like shit for teasing him about the GLC. He put his hand behind my neck and pulled me to him. He covered my mouth with his and began a kiss so sensual and so powerful that I thought my knees were going to buckle underneath me. This is the kiss that always follows that look and I always turn to mush.

He wrapped his arm around my waist and pressed our bodies together. The heat between us warmed me all over and I found myself sighing into the kiss. I felt the blood rushing through my body, stirring up all of my emotions in its wake. He broke the kiss and I opened my eyes. It seemed like I was looking at him through a fish bowl so I blinked to clear my vision. A wetness rolled down my cheek. Shit. That look, that kiss. Shit. Shit. Shit. 

He wiped it away with his thumb and smiled. "Allergies acting up again?"

"Yeah," I answered tentatively and he kissed me again. It's amazing how things progress sometimes. We started talking about Christmas and the reason for gift giving and we ended up in a place far removed from that.

He continued to kiss me and hold me close to him but he slid his hand down the front of my pants and started jerking me off so soft and so slow. He never broke the kiss and I fought to keep my ‘allergies’ at bay. Of course, I lost that battle. Maybe it was just all the thoughts that were coming to mind as I worked on the ornaments and Brian’s gift that already had me so emotional, I don't know really but my eyes were leaking as much as my dick was. I mean, who fucking cries during a hand job? Shit.

I was almost there when he broke the kiss and moved his mouth to my ear. 

"Make a connection with me," he whispered then ran his thumb over my slit. I got dizzy at the feeling between my legs and the thoughts going through my head. He had listened to me and all my drivel and it made me shudder. He wrapped his hand tighter around my shaft and tugged. I moaned as my head fell back. "Give me a gift," he taunted with a couple more strokes and I did...shaking all over. 

After I came, I felt like I couldn’t move. He kissed me again as his hand left me then returned with a towel. He wiped me off then broke the kiss and let me go. I stumbled a little bit to get my balance and opened my eyes. He wiped his hand off, tossed the towel in the kitchen sink, tucked me back inside and zipped up my pants. I just kept watching him. 

“Hey,” he said grinning at me. All I could do was grin back. “Who you working on next?” he asked.

“Uh, Ben and Hunter, I guess,” I answered shaking my head to clear the fog.

“Hunter? I wouldn’t think he was someone special to you. And what kind of connection could you possibly make with him other than the fact that you both want me to fuck you?” My eyes narrowed and he smirked at me. “He’s never even been nice to you. In fact, I’d say he’s been quite the little asshole where you’re concerned.”

“Well, that’s all true. But he’s only an asshole to me because he wants you to fuck him. Look at Michael, he wasn’t exactly nice to me in the beginning either.”

“Mmmm, true.”

“Besides, he’s been through a lot and I admire him for that. He’s young, I can’t hold that against him.” Brian raised an eyebrow at me and it made me grin. I knew what he was thinking. “I just think if I reach out then maybe we could get passed his jealousy. He’s part of the family now, I have to try.”

He didn’t say anything; he just looked at me like he was searching my eyes for sincerity in what I said. I guess he found it because his eyes softened and my knees went weak again. It was THAT look again. Fuck. My hands instinctively went to front of his pants. He moaned slightly and his dick twitched against my fingers but before I could get the zipper down, he pulled my hands away, giggling at me.

"Well, I'll let you get back to your little crafting project now," he finally said as he stuck his tongue in his cheek and tickled at my side. I tried to get him back, but he moved away too quickly. And I really did want to get back to my work so I didn't continue my pursuit of him.

"What are you gonna do?" I asked over my shoulder as I sat back down at the table and picked up another blank ornament.

"I might just do a little shopping online." He said it nonchalantly; like it was the most normal thing he could've said. I put the ornament down and turned around in my chair. 

"Christmas shopping?" I asked in disbelief.

He plopped down at his computer. "Yeah," he answered shrugging his shoulders like he was shocked that I was so shocked.

I just had to ask..."What happened to Brian the Grinch?"

He didn't answer. I know he was trying to play it cool but the corners of his mouth were turned up slightly so it was a dead giveaway.

I laughed and shook my head. "What is this Miracle on Fuller Street?"

His eyes shifted in my direction but he never moved his head. He shrugged his shoulders again as the corners of his mouth curled upwards a little more. I wanted to run over there and hug on him and kiss on him, but I knew it's better to let these kinds of changes just be. I smiled back at him and turned back around to get back to my project.

Next on the list was Ben. I didn't have to think too hard with him. I mean, he's a writer, a professor, he believes in the spirituality of Buddha and he's a dedicated family kind of man. He did fight to take in Hunter after all, and he was hurting when Michael first started with the baby thing. Sometimes I wondered if that's what stirred the steroid interest. I know he likes to write longhand instead of using the computer so I painted one of those old-fashioned paper scrolls, kind of halfway unrolled. I added an old-fashioned fountain pen with the feather plume on the end lying on the scroll next to an opened jar of black ink. Then on the other side, a picture of Buddha...the chubby, happy, smiling Buddha. I was about to write the word family across the bottom when I got an idea.

"Hey Brian?"

"Hmmm."

"Will you look up some Japanese writings? I need the symbol for family. Oh! And for love."

His head shot up. "What are you doing?"

I giggled. "Paranoid, huh? Well, it's not for you so you can relax. It's for Ben." His eyebrows arched up. "Stop it,” I scolded him. “He loves Michael and with Hunter now, he has a family. That's all."

He huffed at me. "Give me a minute." He clicked around for a few minutes then the printer started going. His research abilities amaze me. I guess he has to do a lot of it when he's putting ideas for new campaigns together. But still, he really knows his way around the internet. After the fourth page printed, he grabbed the papers and came over to the table. He laid one page down and said 'family' then put the other one down and looked at me. 

"Love?" I asked and he nodded. "Thanks," I added giving him another giggle. Even when it's not sandwiched between ‘I’ and ‘you’, he still can't say that word with me in the room. I shook my head and he nudged my shoulder.

"You're laughing at me," he mockingly whined.

"No, I'm not," I replied sucking my lips in my mouth to stifle my giggles. 

He laid the other two pages on the table side by side and tapped on them. "What are these things called?"

I looked down at the pages and them back at him. I could feel the skin between my eyebrows squish together in confusion. “Those are the international symbols for male and female.”

He narrowed his eyes and pulled his lips in. “I know what they are smart ass. What are they called?”

Oh. I felt a little heat on my cheeks and wondered if he saw the light bulb flicker on above my head. But then I went blank. I couldn’t quite recall if I’d ever actually been told what they were called and I guessed that’s why he was asking…he didn’t know either. I think they’re one of those things you never realize that you don’t know what they’re called because when you see them, you know exactly what they are and what they mean.

“Ummm, you know, I don’t know,” I confessed. “But it was explained to us in class what they represent. Would that help?” He raised his eyebrows so I took that as a sign for me to tell him. “The male sign is the pointed Mars and symbolizes a warrior holding an arrow; like a hunter providing for his family. And the female sign is Venus with a cross, which symbolizes a maiden holding a mirror. Which I always thought was rather demeaning if you think about it. Definitely not very PC these days.”

He slightly nodded thinking about what I’d said. God, I love it when he really listens to me. “Hmmm, interesting. So women are supposed to just sit in a corner and look pretty? Can’t wait to tell Mel that one.” Then he chuckled.

“Yeah well, I think YOU spend more time looking in a mirror than Mel does,” I laughed along with him. 

“Goes without saying,” he agreed with a sneer.

I rolled my eyes. “What kind of research are you doing over there anyway? I thought you were Christmas shopping?”

He gathered up the pages with the male and female symbols and said, “I am.” Then he took off back to the computer. He knew I wasn’t going to be able to let it go without finding out what those symbols had to do with a gift because as soon as he heard my chair move on the floor when I got up, he ran to the computer and clicked it off the screen. DAMN!

We were both grinning as I approached him. He sat back in his chair as I straddled his lap and sat down. I leaned in to kiss him and turned his chair around so his back was to the computer. He pulled away from the kiss and took a deep breath. “What are you doing?” he asked in a threateningly playful tone.

“Taking a break,” I answered and kissed him again. While my tongue probed around in his mouth, my hand searched around on the desk for the mouse but he grabbed me before I could click the back button. Double Damn! Busted.

“Curiosity killed the cat, you know,” he warned as he twisted my hand around.

I turned out my bottom lip and gave him my best pouty face. It always works for Gus, so why not?

“Not gonna work,” he said looking away from me. 

Yeah right. I humped on him slowly and seductively whispered ‘please’ into his ear. I heard a little growl deep in his throat so I humped with a little more determination and sucked on his ear lobe. 

“Errrr. Oh alright, I’m gonna need your help anyway,” he finally gave in.

I jumped off his lap and turned his chair back around. He grabbed me from behind and pulled me back down on his lap then clicked on the mouse to bring the page back up. It was a site of an artist who designed jewelry. I didn't have a clue what the connection to the symbols was or who he was getting jewelry for. "Brian, what is this?"

"Ummm, personally designed jewelry. I'm having something made." He brushed his fingers of his left hand back and forth against my thigh as his right hand worked the mouse wheel to scroll down the page. I smiled at how the hand on my leg was mirroring the movements of the hand on the mouse. I liked it.

"What are you having made and who's it for?"

"Well, your ornament for Deb gave me an idea. You're right about what you painted. The ‘mom’ kind of says it all and I remembered how elated she was with that bracelet that Emmett bought for her when he was 'millionaire for a day'. Fuck, she even wore it to the diner." Brian laughed as he double-clicked on one of the bracelet images.

I laughed too at first, then..."Yeah, remember how torn up she was when she had to give it back? That's a very sweet idea; she'll love getting another bracelet. And coming from you, might just make her faint."

He huffed and snaked his hand over to rest between my legs. "Probably so," he admitted. "But it's not just a bracelet."

"Oh right. You said the mom on my ornament had inspired you. And what about those symbols?" An image of a charm bracelet popped up and he scrolled down to a collection of charms. There among all the ice skates and initials and graduation caps were the symbols. He clicked on them. "So you're getting her a charm bracelet with the female symbol on it?"

I started thinking about what a stupid idea that was. I mean, give him an 'A' for effort but that was just dumb, even for someone new to gift giving like Brian.

"Nooooo," he answered condescendingly. "It's going to have eleven; two of the females and nine of the males. There's one for each of us...her family. And I'm having them put our birthstones in the center of the circles so that she knows which one is who. I’ll have to tell her that the present also includes an additional charm so that once Mel pops out her grandkid, she can order the correct one and it will already be paid for. Then I'm getting this one here that says mom and putting a diamond inside the 'o'."

Okay, so I'm a twat. His explanation caught in my throat. This was great, and I was so proud of him. I swallowed the lump, turned around in his lap and took his face in my hands.

"Do you think she'll like it?" he asked.

I leaned down and kissed him because I just couldn't talk. I pulled away from the kiss and sniffled. "She's gonna love it, Brian." 

"Yeah?"

"Yeah."

"Good," he answered turning me back around towards the computer. "You gotta help me with the rest of this. What's everyone's birthstone?"

"Brian! You don't know?" I teased at him.

"I know mine," he said laughing and I swatted him. "Ow. Okay, okay. I know Deb's and Mikey's and Lindsay's. And of course, I know Gus'..." He pinched at my side and I flinched. "...and yours, which means I also know Ben's. But I don't know the rest. Never really paid attention. You know, birthdays aren't really my thing."

"Yeah, I know." I wrinkled my nose and he nudged me forward, making me laugh. "I can fill out everyone's but Hunter's. You'll have to ask Michael to be sure but I think it was sometime right before the election. I kind of remember Deb mentioning them having a party for him."

"Ummm, yeah, right. Didn't get an invitation for that one."

"I didn't either." A grin spread across my face as I clicked on all the proper birthstones to complete his order. "I think we were otherwise engaged."

“Yeah,” he huffed in agreement. “You could say that.” He swatted my leg then pushed me off his lap. "Don't you have something you should be doing?" he asked pointing to the table.

"Yeah," I answered. I took a few steps then stopped and went back. I walked up behind him and draped my arms around his neck. "She's gonna love it Brian. Really. You did great." And I meant it. I kissed his cheek. 

He smiled, patted my arms then lifted them off of him. He pulled me around in front of him then down, and he kissed me on the mouth. It was just a quick kiss then he pushed me away. "Go away, I'm busy here," he smirked.

I did as he said and went back to the table. I studied the Japanese symbols that he printed out for me and finished painting Ben's ornament. I signed the bottom and hung it up then started thinking about Hunter. "Brian? What are you getting for Hunter?"

"You're wanting ideas from me? That's a switch."

"I'm curious, but yeah, I'm stuck."

"I thought I'd get him something practical since he doesn't have anything. I was thinking for school, like a Palm organizer or something." 

"Hmm, that's good. It's like you're supporting him getting an education. That'll send a good message."

"Well, I'm all about supporting the young and needy in their pursuit of learning."

I looked at him and rolled my eyes. He laughed.

"That doesn't really help me with mine though. For some reason, I don't think painting an apple and the ABC's would be very symbolic for my ornament theme."

"Yeah, probably not," he agreed. He shrugged his shoulders and turned back to the computer screen.

I plopped back down in my chair and ran all that I knew about Hunter through my mind trying to come up with something. He had it rough. Being tossed around by his parents then by the foster care system…it was like he wasn't a real kid, just an annoyance being shuffled from here to there. Then the life on the streets being used as those geriatric’s little plaything. Now he has Ben and Michael and all of us and he has a chance to be part of a real family.

I sat and stared at the blank ornament. I told Brian I admired Hunter, and that was true. I know how it made me feel when my dad rejected me and as much as that hurt, it didn't compare to the pain Hunter must've felt being rejected by everyone who was supposed to love him. And for no reason whatsoever. I know it was crazy but at least with my dad, he had a reason to reject me. A fucked up reason in his fucked up mind, but a reason nonetheless. But what reason did Hunter's parents have? What about those foster parents? What was their reason? No wonder he turned to hustling...those men were the only ones to not reject him...at least until Ben and Michael came along.

But that was then...now, he has that chance...a chance to be a real boy for the first time in his life instead of everyone's puppet. I felt a tug on my heart and a spark flickered behind my eyes. That was it. I picked up the brush and started painting...a rendition of Pinocchio as a puppet on one side and as a real boy on the other. Then I added the words from the title of one of my favorite books that I had to read in high school by S.E. Hinton. Under the puppet Pinocchio, I wrote, 'That was Then...' and on the real boy side, '...This is Now'. 

If I was going to be true to my word and really try to connect to Hunter, I hoped that this would be a start and let him know that I did get it. That I did understand what his life must've been like before and what it has the potential to be now. I smiled then laughed. I still wasn't going to let my undefined, unconventional boyfriend fuck him though.

"What's so funny?" my undefined unconventional boyfriend called out from across the room.

"Nothing," I answered grinning as I hung it on the line with the others.

We both continued working on our projects for the rest of the night. I finished Melanie’s and Lindsay’s but wasn’t as happy with theirs as I was with the others. I found it odd that I spent so much time with them but yet didn’t feel like I knew them very well. I just kept going back to two things that they both were about…careers and motherhood. 

I know there’s more to them than that but for the life of me, I couldn’t think of a thing. So I finally gave in and painted an artist’s palette with a paintbrush and a headshot of Gus on Lindsay’s. And the justice scales with baby booties on Melanie’s. Since we don’t know what she’s having yet, I painted two booties, one with a pink ribbon and one with blue. As I signed them, I shrugged my shoulders and made a New Year’s resolution to try to learn more about them in the coming year.

I yawned and stretched deciding it was time to call it a night. I went over to Brian and rubbed on his shoulders. “Almost done?” I asked leaning forward and pushing my hands down the front of his chest.

He leaned back against me. “Almost. When does Ted get out of rehab?”

I followed his eyes to the computer screen as I pondered his question. He had a calendar up on the page and at the top it had the letters NYMOH all in capital letters. Of course, I got curious. “Umm, I don’t know. I think it’s a twelve-week program and it’s been like six already so… What are you looking at?”

“Hmmm, that makes it sometime in the beginning of February? That should work,” he mumbled out loud like he was talking more to himself than to me. 

I pushed my hand lower and squeezed on his dick. “What are you looking at?” I asked again.

He turned his head to look at me. I was grinning because I wanted to play, but his look made me think that maybe he didn’t so I moved my hand back up even though I kept my eyes on the computer screen.

He turned back then pushed my hand back down. Guess I was wrong. I smiled. 

“It’s the event calendar for the New York Metropolitan Opera House. I got Ted Placido Domingo’s rare Operalia Contest CD, and while I was on his website it mentioned that he would be performing at the Met so I thought he might like a ticket to see him live to go with the CD. He loves the opera even though I have no idea why and since I don’t have to go with him, then what the hell? Right? But I wasn’t sure he’d be able to go with rehab and all.”

“What’s the opera?” I asked squeezing my fingers around his cock and making him growl.

“Grr, Queen of Spades.”

I rubbed a little bit up and down. “Oooh, that’s a tragic love story and not one you’d really want to see by yourself.”

“Aren’t they all tragic?” he asked with a smirk and I laughed. He covered my hand with his and pressed it against him harder. “But yeah, I thought about that so I’m getting him two tickets. He’ll need a good date night when he gets out of that place. And as an extra special ridiculously romantic added bonus, there’s a show on Valentine’s Day. How pathetic is that? Maybe he could take Emm…” He cocked his head, thought for a minute and looked at me. “…or Blake. How does a looser like Ted get two men interested in him?”

I let that one slide because, well, I was choked up. 

“That’s…a…great...idea…Brian,” I managed to say, kissing his neck. Brian Kinney thinking of date nights and romance? My dick stood up and bumped the back of his chair. Ow.

He pulled my hands off of him and stood up. “I have another great idea.” And just like that, we put our thoughts of giving gifts to everyone else out of our minds and decided to give ourselves one in the bedroom. He interlaced his fingers with mine and pulled me up the steps and next to the bed.

He backed me up against the platform, let go of my hand then reached up to my face. His thumb brushed across my lips and his eyes followed it as he moved it back and forth. I knew that movement. I knew that Brian. I knew where it was going to lead. It was a good thing he got me off earlier, because it was going to be one of those slow, loving fucks that last a long time. My breathing got heavier and my heart started beating faster.

I couldn't help but wonder what he was thinking but I learned long ago to never ask. It would only break the mood and when Brian would get like that, I didn't dare do anything to snap him out of it. Curiosity may not really kill the cat, but it definitely kills a loving Brian moment, so fuck curiosity. 

The stroke of his thumb and the look on his face as he watched was too much...I opened my mouth and pushed my tongue out against the pad of his thumb, inviting it inside. He accepted the invitation and pushed it in so I started sucking on it like I suck on his cock. He grinned but never took his eyes off my mouth. 

My eyes rolled back in my head as his free hand moved to my pants. He pulled on the velcro and it tore apart making that ripping sound. Thank god for loose zippers because all he had to do was pull a little harder and the zipper unzipped all on its own, clicking all the way down. My pants fell down, bunching up around my ankles. He pulled his thumb out of my mouth so fast that it made a popping sound as the suction hold I had going was broken. I opened my eyes and wondered what he was up to now. 

He pulled my shirt up and over my head, tossed it on the ground then ran his hands down my chest and around my waist then into the elastic waistband of my underwear. He pushed them down then cleared his throat and said, “Lie down. On your back.” 

I did as he instructed and he pulled my pants, underwear and socks off, tossing them all in a pile. I looked at him and he stared at me as he pulled his clothes off…semi-quickly, but in my current state it seemed more like somewhat torturously slow. Once he was completely naked, he kneeled at the side of the bed. He brushed his hands over my feet and it tickled, I pulled them away and he pulled them back. His hands continued upwards, over my calves, my knees and my thighs then stopped.

I was so turned on, my dick was so hard, my mind was racing. He sat there, not doing a thing; he just looked over my body from one end to the other. It made me shiver. I lifted my head. “Brian,” I managed to croak. 

He softly chuckled before he ssh’d me. “I just want to look at you,” he said. 

“Oh god,” I said. And he ssh’d me again. My head fell back on the bed and my dick stood up in the air. He chuckled again and took it in his grasp, wrapping his long fingers around it and keeping it warm. His hand was like fire, his flesh burning into mine, and the shivers quickly dissipated. But as good as it felt to have his hand on me, it still made me want to scream. It was that same hand that had brought me off earlier and its touch threatened to do the same thing again. I wanted so much more this time. I pulled my lips in to keep the scream inside. I moved my hands to cover my eyes. I couldn’t watch him watching me any longer. He wanted nice and slow and I had to fight the urge to tell him to just fuck me.

I felt the mattress move and heard the nightstand drawer roll open then close. My dick twitched in his hand and he let it go. I sighed with relief that I could take that as an opportunity to calm down, but then moaned as the cool air engulfed me. I heard the snap of the cap of the bottle of lube. My ass quivered and I sucked in a deep breath. Then the tear of the condom packet…and I let it out. The sounds of impending sex swirled through my head. 

My breaths got heavier and deeper, my chest rose high with every inhale. I thought, 'how was I ever going to get through this?' I clenched my fists and pressed them against my eyes harder. I clenched my jaw and pressed my teeth against my turned in lips. I bent my knees, opened my legs up and planted my feet on the mattress to give him access. I wanted him inside me right then and I was having trouble with all the waiting. I started panting in anticipation. Now, now, now was all I could think of.

I felt the mattress shift again and his hands touched my knees and began to push on them. No, no, no. No playing. I just wanted him inside me. I strengthened my leg muscles to fight against his push. 

"Justin, relax," he whispered. The soothing sound of his voice made my body betray me and I straightened my legs out like he wanted while a small moan accidentally escaped from my throat. He ssh’d me again rubbing his hand on my thigh. Fuck, I couldn’t help it. I was so frustrated and he was taking so long but I managed to swallow the next one before it got away.

His hand returned to my cock and then I felt … something that I wasn’t expecting. I pulled my hands away from my face, opened my eyes and lifted my head. He was looking at me with a raised eyebrow and the cutest fucking grin as he rolled the condom the rest of the way down my cock. I certainly wasn't expecting that and my heart started beating faster.

“Oh...,” I let slip out before he crawled up my body, straddled my hips and ssh’d me with a kiss. It started off slow and sensual but built in intensity. I know that at that moment, I never wanted that kiss to end; I was literally melting underneath him. Something was going on with him. Brian may speak very little with his mouth but his actions have always said a lot…he was trying to tell me…to show me what it was, and it made my whole body tingle at what it could be. 

He broke the kiss, lifted up on his knees, positioned my cock at his hole, grabbed my hands and pulled them over my head then kissed me again. Our fingers intertwined and he tightened his grip. He broke the kiss but pressed his forehead against mine. Our noses touched and he never took his eyes off me and neither did I from him...we kept them open as he began to lower. I hadn’t prepared him and he hadn’t put lube on me; my eyes got wide with worry. He took an extra long blink as the head pushed through then let out the breath that I didn't even realize he was holding. I moaned into the feeling as I slid inside him...slid somewhat easier than I’d anticipated I would. So that’s what he was doing when he was making me wait so long...oh...I had to kiss him so I smushed our faces together trying to reach his mouth.

He slid all the way down and started riding me in slow but deep and long strokes. It was so tight and so warm. I never know what sets him off when he gets like this. It doesn't happen often, and I don't mean the me-fucking-him thing. It’s not about that. It's when he wants it slow. It’s the silent conversation in his movements and his touch. It always blows my mind. 

I turned my head away to break the kiss. 

“Brian,” I mewled. 

I wasn’t going to last. I was trying but it felt way too good. He was lifting all the way up then lowering all the way back down. My hands were still pinned above my head. I was fucking him but yet he was still topping me. I was helpless to reach out to him and I needed to so badly. Fuck. 

“Let...me...touch...you,” I begged in between labored breaths. 

“Not yet. Hold it off. Just let me feel you.”

My fingers tightened around his and I know I whimpered. The things he says sometimes just blow me away. I swear I wanted to cry. Shit. I groaned and he picked up the pace. Not fast and frenzied, just an even steady pace. I felt a new wave wash over me as I held off the initial urge to cum. I relaxed a little and began bucking upward to meet his thrusts. I reached my head up and latched on to his mouth. I drove my tongue deep into his mouth and made him moan. But that’s not what he wanted.

He pulled away from the kiss, panting and out of breath. He sat straight up, released my hands and stilled my hips. 

“Now,” he said and he continued to ride me in those torturously long movements, slowing the pace back down just a bit. I licked the palm of my hand, reached for his straining cock and stroked him at the same pace. I closed my eyes and tilted my head back to just feel him and accept the inevitable. And again, that’s not what he wanted…not what he was telling me…I wasn’t listening.

“Justin, open you eyes,” he said in a low whisper. 

I did and as we stared into each other we continued our earlier conversation. His hands moved to my chest, my stomach and he caressed me all over as he moved up and down. I lifted my legs and he leaned back against them. I could hear what he was telling me, it was right there…in the tips of his fingers, in his body’s movement. It was in the look in his eyes that bore into me and tunneled through my brain into that part on the left side where understanding and emotion meld together. I could hear it, really hear it…it was so loud…and I listened, maybe for the first time…my stomach cramped as I punished myself for not listening to him before. 

My hand stopped moving; I needed to tell him. “Brian, I…” 

And he ssh’d me again. He covered my hand with his and guided it back into those strokes, making me go a little faster. His other hand moved to my mouth and he held his index finger against my lips. 

“Now…talk to me, Justin,” he demanded softly and I knew what he meant. I squeezed on his cock, clutched it tighter and moved my hand with more determination.

The ease of the stroke from my wet hand pushed his head back and I knew he heard me. His ass clenched around my cock. His hands moved quickly to my thighs. He was about to cum and I wanted to see. I lifted my head just as his fingers dug into my skin. He reduced his movements to these shallow bounces, rolling his hips back and bumping my dick against that spot just inside him…and he came all over my face, still bumping, still digging, still bouncing, still clenching…tighter and tighter. I threw my head back and rode out the waves with him.

He shivered and pulled my hand off his dick. Once again, my hands were pinned above my head and he hovered over me. He was smiling as he leaned down, licked his cum off my cheek and kissed me. I remember tasting him and the rest is just a blur. 

*****

The next day I was at my professor’s private studio staring at three large blank canvases. They were leaning up against the wall and because of their size and the vast whiteness that they projected throughout the room, I felt so small sitting at an easel with a small sketchpad and a pencil. It was almost intimidating. But Brian’s grander than life sometimes so it seemed fitting that even the blank canvases that I was going to paint him on made me feel that way. I giggled to myself and shook my head.

I had to draw out my plans on paper so that when I started to paint I would already know how it was supposed to be. I wanted this painting to be Brian, but not just a bust-like portrait like you see hanging at the top of a staircase in the mansion home of some recluse billionaire. I wanted it to reflect all the faces of Brian, not just the one he shaves every morning. I figured there were three faces of Brian, and the first was the most obvious. The professional Brian.

This was the confident, self-assured, no mask, no bullshit, Brian. Dressed in an Armani suit with his hair tousled to perfection and his shoulders pulled back, he owned any boardroom that he walked into. I was going to capture that look. I drew him full-length, shoes and all. And just because he breaks all the stereotypes in everything that he does…I drew him with his hands in his pockets. They say that’s a look of insecurity and if you want to command a room, then you shouldn’t do that. I say, they’ve never met Brian Kinney. He doesn’t need his hands…his confidence is in his face. And just to round out the image and make it complete, I drew his briefcase at his feet and put all his most popular accounts on some display boards behind him. Liberty Air, Poole Boy, Brown Athletics, Old Pitt and one that I don’t know the name of, but I’ll never forget the slogan…Eat the Meat. He still won’t tell me how he came up with that one. 

I was pretty pleased with how it turned out and spent the rest of the day painting the images on the canvas. I had to take several breaks to rest my hand and worried that maybe this was too much for me to physically accomplish. But I had to do it…I wanted to do it…for Brian. I would rest my hand that night I told myself. I only had four ornaments left to finish anyway. I put the finishing touches on Brian’s lips, put the brush down and took a step back. I stared into those confident hazel eyes and smiled when my dick stirred awake. It was done and Brian, the successful ad man, had a face.

When I got home that night my hand was hurting and kept cramping up. I did all the stretches that they taught me in physical therapy and they helped but I was still agitated and pissed off. I know it probably doesn't sound like the smartest thing to do but I sat down at the table to work on the remaining ornaments. I just figured the enjoyment I get from painting the ornaments would improve my mood before Brian got home. 

I did get three of them done. They weren't as detailed as the others but I was happy with them. 

On Emmett's, I painted spots for confetti, a champagne glass and a simple party hat for his party planning business. I know he doesn't do those kinds of parties, but how was I supposed to paint sushi without it looking like pieces of candy or something? 

The other side was supposed to be a paddleboat on the Mississippi River like from a Mark Twain story but for the sake of my hand I decided it was too detailed. I painted the only other thing I could think of and that was a simple outline of the state of Mississippi with a magnolia flower. Not only is the magnolia the state flower, it also represents his favorite Julia Roberts movie. Then I added a brightly lit flame in the middle. It wasn't to say that Emmett's flaming; it was a tribute to what he said after his stint with that See the Light cult…something about wanting his flame to burn bright instead of being a puny little pilot light. It was such a simple statement but one that spoke volumes. It's like he said that for all of us.

Ted was a lot harder because, well, he wasn't a practicing accountant anymore and he lost his porn site so I didn't want to paint anything that would remind him of that. I thought about Brian's gift to him so I went with the opera angle too. He really does love the opera and maybe something like that would bring him comfort. 

For the other side, I was more definitive of what I wanted to paint. I painted a simple outline of a man and added a peace sign on his chest where the heart should be. That is really what I hoped for, for Ted. That maybe this time in rehab would not only get him clean, but give him the confidence he needs to have inner peace. Ted is a good guy; he just doesn't like himself very much. Sometimes I wonder if Brian doesn't help perpetuate that in Ted. He teases and snarks on all of us but we know how he is and that he doesn’t really mean those things he says. But Ted, I’m not sure, I don't think he does know. I need to talk to Brian about that sometime when he's in a receptive mood. So, that was Ted's.

Gus was also easy. Trucks and trains on one side, his favorite toys. I painted a family of stick figures on the other…two large girl figures, one large man figure and one small boy figure. It was simple, but I thought he'd like the truck and train and Lindsay'd probably get weepy over the stick family. Gus is lucky to have so many people who love him; I hope he realizes that one day.

I hung them up and stretched my fingers again. I shook my hand in the air, but nothing seemed to be helping. I sat down and looked at the last blank ornament. It was Vic's. I knew what I wanted to paint...a chef's hat with a cake...and since he'd finally found love with Rodney, I was going to paint a pair of hands holding each other. But hands are hard to do and need detail. I didn't think I could do it just yet. I was sitting there stewing and rubbing my hand when Brian got home. I didn't want him to know so I quit rubbing it, stood up and put my hand in my pocket as I went to greet him.

"Hey."

"Hey."

Brian was carrying a bunch of display boards and videotapes plus his briefcase. I was used to him bringing work home but it usually all fitted into his briefcase so I wondered what all this extra stuff was. He was about to drop everything, so with my good hand, I took the boards from him as I kissed him hello.

I started to pull away since it was just a quick hello kiss but he leaned in for another one and sucked on my mouth, pulling my tongue into his. This is nice, I thought to myself, moaning into the kiss. He closed his lips, pushing my tongue out of his mouth and ended the kiss sharply with a loud smack. 

"Urmpf," he huffed, licking his lips and giving me a smile. "I've had a shit day, Sunshine," he said laying the videotapes and his briefcase down on his desk and tugging on his tie. "Let's fuck." 

And he grabbed the front of my pants, pulling me to him.

"Someone's feeling frisky," I giggled. I held up a display board. "What's all this?"

He pulled off his jacket, dropped his head to my forehead and sighed. "Emmett's Christmas present. Come on, I wanna fuck." And he squeezed on my ass.

"Emmett's present?!?" I squeaked out, pulling away from him and making him grumble under his breath. I pulled my hand out of my pocket, held the boards up and lifted the tissue covering.

"Yes," he muttered, unbuttoning his shirt and pulling it free from inside his pants. "I put together an ad campaign for his new business. A couple of print ad layouts, a radio spot, and a TV commercial." He unzipped his pants and pushed them down then toed off his shoes and stepped out of this pants. "He'll have to buy the space and the TV time but the creative part is his gift."

I giggled at him because he must've really been in a mood to just toss his clothes in a pile like that, especially when it was one of his good suits. I looked over the boards. The concept had a distinctive Wizard of Oz theme to it which was kind of clever and went perfectly with the name...Auntie Em's Event Planning. 

"Auntie Em's?" I asked with a cocked eyebrow.

"It's catchy," he said with a shrug. 

"He'll love it, Brian." I put the boards down, peeled off my shirt and tossed it in the pile with his. 

He growled and said, "I want to fuck you senseless. Game?"

"Game," I answered, pushing my pants down and stepping out of them. 

He reached for my hand and guided it to his dick. "Make me hard," he demanded softly.

I wrapped my fingers around it and started stroking. After the third or so tug, my hand cramped and started shaking. I released it quickly and replaced it with my good hand. I kissed on his neck and hoped he didn't notice. If he had, it would cancel the 'fuck you senseless' thing that we had going on and I didn't want that. 

I mean, the night before had been great, better than great, but there's something about him wanting me in this way that is just...well, so fucking hot. Before, a shit day, as he called them, meant a trip to the baths, but now he comes to me. So even though I've always loved our fast and hard fuck sessions, they're even better now. 

I stroked with more determination to move things along and he hardened in my grasp...but then he grabbed my gimp hand by the wrist, held it out and backed a step away from me. Shit.

"Everything okay?" he asked.

"Everything's fine." I stepped forward and went back to sucking and nibbling on his neck.

"You sure?" he whispered into my ear.

I stopped kissing him and breathed against his neck. "Just overdid it today, that's all. I'm fine." I moved my mouth to his ear and in a husky voice reminded him of where we were. "I thought you were gonna fuck me senseless. Come on, do it." 

Then I bit his ear and stroked him some more. That did it.

The next thing I knew, I was up against the steel beam next to the desk and he was fucking me senseless like he’d promised all the while still holding onto the wrist of my bad hand. It's like he was protecting it or something. He wouldn't let me use it at all...not to touch him, not to hold on to the beam...nothing.

After we’d both came and had gathered enough strength to peel ourselves away from the pole and each other, he spoke, "No more painting, Justin. Use the computer. That's what I bought it for."

I didn't answer; I just nodded. I couldn't promise him I wouldn't paint...his gift was only one-third finished. But after dinner and a shower, when we settled in to watch some TV, he massaged my hand and I let him.

"I need you to do something for me," Brian said during a commercial. "But you can't let anyone know that you're doing it."

"Ooooh, another undercover operation," I said excitedly, teasing him. "Should I go get my leather outfit?" 

I pulled my hand away from him and turned so that I was leaning up against the other end of the couch, then put my feet in his lap.

He kind of half-laughed at my reference to us playing detective to get Reikert's DNA. 

"No, not that kind of mission, but if you get caught, you'll have to face the wrath of Mikey..." He turned to look at me as he absentmindedly started massaging my foot and I grinned. "...and in some ways that could be worse than a murderer's." He was grinning and I raised my eyebrows in curiosity.

"Well you know how I feel about facing the unknown..." I dropped my voice to a sexy whisper and continued, "...the danger...the excitement..." I emphasized my point by pushing my free foot under his robe and rubbing my toes against his dick. He stilled my foot so I pulled it back out. I cleared my throat. "What do you need me to do?"

"The next time you're with Mikey at the comic book store working on Rage, I need you to get his copy of Rage's first issue."

"Brian, if you need a copy of the first issue, you can have mine."

"No, huh uh," he said, shaking his head and still rubbing my foot. "It's for his gift so it needs to be his copy. And I also need all your notes; story ideas written down, first drafts of the drawings...stuff like that." He thought a minute then turned back to me. "Who's got that coaster that you drew on...the Captain E thing?"

I giggled. "The Captain E coaster? Oh my god, Brian. That was so lame. I was so high."

"Yeah," he agreed with a huff. The sex had been really awesome that night. But the hangover the next day was the absolute worst. For both of us. He looked down, I assume to think about it then realized what he was doing to my foot. He stopped, pushed my feet off his lap then turned, put his in mine and wiggled his toes. 

I laughed and returned the foot massage. "What are you getting Michael that you need all that stuff?" 

"Having a shadow box made to commemorate the creation of Rage. You know, kind of chronicle how it came to be, the coaster, the early drawings and then the final issue. Comic books have always been such a big deal to him, so for him to actually have written one and got it published is really amazing."

I pushed his feet off my lap, crawled over to him and straddled his lap. "You're amazing," I said then I kissed him.

He pulled away from the kiss and gave me that look. "He couldn't have done it without you, you know." 

I swallowed so that the lump that always appears when he does that didn't have a chance to creep into my throat. I smiled then asked, "Does that mean I get a shadow box too?"

He laughed. "No." 

I turned my bottom lip out so he quickly added, "I think you'll like yours much better."

I beamed him a smile. "What'd you get me?" I asked grinding my ass against his lap to get him to talk.

"If you don't stop, you're getting nothing."

I stopped and he laughed at me so I laughed too. 

"Why put it in a shadow box? Everything you asked me to get is flat. You could just have it framed."

"Well the toys aren't flat so I need a shadow box."

"Huh? What toys?"

"Oh, that's the best part," he answered like he just realized he hadn't mentioned that yet. "One of my clients is a toy manufacturer. He made prototype figurines of Rage, Zephyr and JT for me so they'll be in the box too."

I think my jaw dropped all the way to the floor. I slugged him in the arm. "How could you leave that part out? That IS the best part!! Oh my god! I'm a toy?!?"

He chuckled and rubbed his arm. "Yeah, we all are."

"That is soooo cool. Wait 'til I tell mom. Do I get a set too? Please, please, please. I've got to have them."

He rolled his eyes and turned towards the TV. "I may have mentioned to him that JT would want a set too..." He shifted his eyes to me then added, "…and Rage."

I felt really silly about being so excited about that, but how many people can actually say they're a toy? My amazement at how thoughtful he was being in selecting the gifts for everyone coupled with the excitement over the toy made me real horny. I pushed his head back against the back of the sofa, lifted up on my knees and attacked his mouth from above. It wasn't too much longer after that, that I was on my back on the sofa with him driving into me. Both of us grunting and groaning as we came in a splatter of bright…or at least I did...stars, just like the one on top of the Christmas tree.

The next day I got up early, worked a six-hour shift at the diner, took my semester final in Art History class, turned in my project for Computer Graphics, rushed back to the loft to finish Vic's ornament before Brian noticed that I'd been painting again, then rushed back to PIFA to work on Brian's painting. It was already three o'clock and I knew I would be there for awhile getting the next part done so I called Brian and told him that I wouldn't be back to the loft until late. He told me that was good because he needed some alone time without me bugging him. I called him an asshole, he huffed at me and we hung up saying the usual 'later'.

It's kind of stupid, but I really like the ‘later’ thing. I never noticed that that's what we said to each other all the time until that night that he ran into me at Woody's when I was drinking away my blues after seeing Ethan leave with that fan. When Brian had gotten up to leave, he said, "see ya," and I remember that it seemed so odd and gave me pause; even in my drunken stupor I knew it didn't sound right. But now, it's ‘later’ again. I like it.

So the next face in my painting was to be Brian's hero side. He scoffs when people call him that because he says he was just fixing one of his fuck-ups. That Stockwell wouldn't have even come close to winning in the first place if it hadn't been for his brilliant commercials. Maybe he’s right but he's still a hero to me. He saved my life, he saved Ted from jail, he saved Emmett from Ted and so much more. He really makes it easy for Michael and me to write the Rage stuff, so Rage was to be the second face of Brian.

I drew it all out then began painting. It was Brian, not the comic book Rage Brian, but the real Brian wearing Rage's costume. I painted his face with the look of Rage...angered, determined and without any fear. I painted his body standing just like the Statue of Liberty. In place of Liberty's book that she clutches in her arm, I painted a videotape that had 'Concerned Citizens for the Truth' written on it. Then instead of a torch his up-stretched arm held a small city. I named the city 'Liberty' and painted its name on a welcome sign at the edge of the city. 

There were a whole bunch of buildings but I only named three of them. A large building, Babylon, a very small building on the corner, the diner, and I painted a red awning on one, Woody's. And just to make myself feel better I added a crumbled building laying in ruins at the edge of the city. It had a sign in front of it that had broken into two pieces. One piece said 'Van' and the other said 'guard'. It was to symbolize his broken partnership and it was laying in ruin because I have all the confidence in the world that now that he has started his own agency and pulled, not only Cynthia, but his biggest clients with him, he will top Vanguard in both profit and success. I kind of chuckled at the irony. 

To finish it off I painted my Stockwell posters scattered about under his feet. And there it was, larger than life. The hero Brian.

On the way to the loft I got to thinking about the next part of the painting and knew I was going to need help. It's easy for me to draw and paint Brian's face from memory but this next part included Gus. I don't see him very much so I called Lindsay and asked if I could go over to her house the next day so I could sketch him. She said of course and didn't even push me when I told her that I didn't want to discuss why. 

The next problem was going to be me. It's not often that I draw myself so that alone was going to be a challenge but I had to draw my backside for this painting and well, it's not like I look at my ass everyday. So that was definitely a problem. I called my professor and talked over my options. He said I could pose for someone else and then paint myself from their sketch but then it wouldn't be all my own work. That wasn't the option I wanted to take. His other idea was better and he said he'd have the needed equipment brought to his studio the next day. I was relieved but realized that, again, the next day was going to be very busy. 

When I finally got to the loft, Brian was awake but already in bed. I peeled off my clothes, crawled in under the covers and scooted over next to him. He kissed me then pushed me over onto my side. He spooned up behind me, draped his arm over my waist and grabbed my hand. He lifted it up and as it passed by my face, I gulped. I hadn't gotten all the paint off. Shit. I heard him huff behind my ear but he didn't say anything, he just massaged my hand until we both fell asleep.

After my six-hour shift at the diner and my hour of sitting with Gus for the sketch, I had to go to the comic book store to work on Rage. I called Brian before I went in and told him I was there. After an hour of us working on the next bad guy, Brian called Michael to go shopping with him and help him pick out something for Ben's Christmas present. He was going to get him a Mont Blanc fountain pen for him to use to write and wanted Michael's opinion...at least that was the story. We were relying on him never passing up an opportunity to go when Brian called for help. I was both pissed off and relieved that he agreed to go. At Brian's suggestion, he asked me to watch the store for an hour. Of course, I agreed. 

As soon as he’d left, I started digging around for all the items that Brian needed. I found all the notes including the Captain E coaster in a file behind the counter but I couldn't find his copy of Rage. Knowing Michael and knowing how much first issues go up in value, I figured it was in the safe. I didn't have the combination so I had a problem. Just in case...I cranked on the handle of the safe and it opened. I laughed because what's the point in putting valuables in a safe if you don't lock the safe? But it enabled me to complete my secret mission so I thanked Michael's stupidity and stuffed everything in my backpack just as Michael and Brian came through the door.

Brian walked right up to me and kissed me...full-on on the mouth...tongue and all. I melted into it and kissed him back with the same intensity.

"Would you guys get a room? There's kids in here," Michael barked out at us.

Brian pulled away quickly, growling at me as I smiled back at him. Then he looked around and turned to Michael. "Yeah, I can see all the little cretins running about," he said sarcastically. There was no one in the store but us. Michael folded his arms and huffed, rolling his eyes. 

I giggled and Brian turned back to me. "Everything go okay?" he asked with a raise eyebrow.

"Yep, no problems at all," I answered chuckling at the memory of the safe and tapping my backpack. 

He nodded in understanding. "Need a ride?"

"Yeah, I'm working on a project at school. Give me a lift?" He agreed and we left. Mission accomplished.

Brian dropped me off at the studio and said he was headed back to work, that he had some things to take care of. I thought that was odd because it was only 3:30 and I’d just assumed that was where he was going. But I shrugged it off, told him I’d be home late again, kissed him goodbye and was starting to get out of the car when he grabbed my arm.

“What?” I asked turning back around.

“You get out of school, when?” 

He’s just too smart or maybe a little too distrustful of me now. I don’t know, but I should’ve seen that this would happen. I got out of school two days ago and tried desperately to scan my memory to see if I had told him that at some point. I decided to just tell him the truth…or at least part of it.

“I got out on Monday, but I’m still working on a special project and my professor gave me permission to turn it in late and use his studio.”

He thought for a minute then asked, “So when will you be done with it?” 

For some reason I got the distinct feeling this wasn’t about distrust, that there was something else...but I didn’t know what. 

“Tomorrow,” I answered. He sucked his lips in and nodded his head. “Something wrong?” 

He hates it when I ask him that, but I had to know what the inquisition was all about. 

He furrowed his brows and looked at me then grinned. “Nope. Everything’s peachy. See ya tonight.”

There was that ‘see ya’ and I got worried. “Yeah, okay,” I said hesitantly and I started to get out of the car again.

“Don’t work too hard,” he called out, then gesturing at my hand.

“I won’t,” I reassured him. I smiled and wiggled my fingers in front of him.

“Later.”

I sighed with relief as I said ‘later’ back to him.

When I got into the studio I found the two mirrors had been delivered, just as the professor had promised. I pulled out the sketch that I’d done of Gus and started drawing out the rest of what I needed. I started with the two Brians. The last Brian that I wanted to draw was the loving, caring Brian that I knew in my heart. He always said he’d never make a good boyfriend or a good father and I just don’t believe it. 

I’ve seen him with Gus and even though he’s not a live-in dad and he’s not there all the time, there is no doubt that he loves that kid. So he’s wrong about that. I don’t think he ever thought Gus would be anything more to him than a result of his sperm donation, but I knew better from that first night. I didn’t even know Brian then, and yet, when he held Gus in his arms for the first time…well, it wasn’t the look of someone who didn’t give a shit. He looked just like all the other proud fathers that were pacing around in that hospital corridor. I think that’s part of why I fell for him so hard right from the beginning and why I felt safe enough to go home with him even though he was high on E. Anybody who would look at a baby like that certainly wouldn’t be an axe murderer or anything…at least that was my thinking at the time. Plus he was hot and I really wanted to get laid.

Which brings me to the boyfriend thing. Is Brian a good boyfriend? Well, yeah, in an undefined, unconventional way. I don’t mean that in the same way that Brian means it when he says it. Does he do all the things that boyfriends or husbands or partners do in the movies? No. But he does other stuff, and some of it's better than those guys in the movies. He listens to me and really hears me. He looks at me and really sees me. He touches me and really feels me. Those things are better than anything else because those things mean that he respects me as a person and that he values that I’m in his life. He worries about my hand, he worries that I work too much, that I don’t get enough sleep, that I eat too much junk…he worries and worries and even though I want to smack him sometimes because of all of his worry, I know that it means something…he can’t tell me that he doesn’t give a shit. 

So to paint this personal side of Brian, I chose to paint him with me and with Gus. That’s not to say that Michael or Lindsay aren’t important to him, they are…it’s just that he’s never questioned whether he was a good friend or not. He’s comfortable with those relationships and his role in them. I wanted this painting to tell him something that he may not know. He’s a good boyfriend and he’s a good father. I wanted to paint Brian, the family man, even though I'd never tell him that's what it was. 

This side of Brian actually has two facets. While he loves both Gus and I, the love takes different forms. It’s romantic love (yes, I said ‘romantic love’) with me. And of course, fatherly love with Gus. So I drew two images of Brian. The pose was the same in both, and they both expressed pure contentment and happiness. The two figures stood facing the front but with their heads turned toward each other, which meant they were facing each other as well as the center of the painting. The only difference between the two Brians was their clothing. The romantic Brian on the left was nude; the fatherly Brian on the right was clothed in a pair of faded blue jeans with the top button undone and a black wife beater. Both Brians were barefoot, of course. 

Now that I had the two Brians sketched out, I began painting them on the canvas. The idea was to have me, also nude, standing in front of Brian. That way you would see some of Brian’s body but his dick wouldn’t be on display since I’d be standing in front of him. Of course that meant my ass would be showing, but hey, it’s just an ass so I didn’t care. The point of the nudity was to show that we are lovers, whether he admits it or not. He would have his arms around my upper back and I was going to have my arms around his waist. I would be more on the right side of him closer to the center so that when I laid my head on his shoulder, it would be on the side that he had his head turned towards, facing him, and he’d be kissing my forehead like he does so often. 

Then Gus would be basically the same only Brian would be holding him and Gus would have his arms around his daddy’s neck. But again, he’d be on the center side, facing Brian, head on his shoulder and Brian would be kissing his forehead as well. 

By the time I got done for the evening, I had both Brians painted as well as Gus. I was so relieved because the only thing left to paint would be me and that would take a while, but I figured with the use of the two mirrors, I'd be able to pull it off.

The next day I found out just how hard it was going to be. I was going to have to paint me naked so I stripped down and was really glad that it was to be a back view, because it was really cold in there. I positioned one mirror directly in front of the painting and the other one right next to it then turned them towards each other just slightly. That way, as I painted the mirror behind me would reflect my rear view into the mirror beside the painting and I could see it and paint myself from there. It would be like painting a live nude model only instead of being live; it was a reflection in a mirror. The only bad thing was that I had to keep stopping to get a better look. Live models aren’t supposed to move, and well, I had to paint so I had to move. It was difficult, but I got it done. 

I stood back and looked at it and felt there was something uneven about this part. Both of the other sections had something painted at the bottom. The professional Brian had his briefcase and the hero Brian had the Stockwell posters. This section needed something. I looked over at Brian, my nude Brian, and scanned his body. I felt like something was missing. 

As I glanced at his hands I realized that it was the cowry shell bracelet, and then it occurred to me that I hadn’t seen Brian wearing it in like forever. I put it on his wrist when I returned it to him after the nephew fiasco, but I never saw it on him after that. I just figured that John’s false accusations and Brian’s confrontation with his mother had tainted the meaning of it for him so he’d quit wearing it. I mean, the bracelet did symbolize his sexual drive, his sexual predator side, but maybe the whole child molester thing gave a new meaning to sexual predator title, and was something he no longer wanted to be associated with. 

But then I started to think back before that…in the bathroom at Mel and Lindsay’s during the party…in the loft when I thanked him for paying my tuition…at the diner when he offered me the poster project…those were all events before the nephew thing and I realized that even then, he hadn’t been wearing it. In fact, the Rage party had been the last time. I shivered all over and looked up at the happy and content Brian that stood seven feet tall in my arms. Was it because of me? 

I felt the tears well up in my eyes and decided if that’s the way it was for him, then it needed to be there. I painted the cowry bracelet on the ground at his feet. My breath caught in my throat at the implication. Was that when he realized that he had to accept the fact that he loved me? When I wanted him back, I wanted him back just the way he was. I was willing to accept him and all his faults because I understood them and I really was okay with them. That's why I told him that. I really did understand and knew what I could expect from him. 

But the Brian I got back wasn’t the same Brian. He had changed; and for the better. It was like an added bonus…because I’d wanted him even knowing about the warts; I got him without the warts. Kind of like Beauty accepting the ugly Beast and because she had, that acceptance turned him into the handsome prince. Or the princess that kissed that frog and again, got the prince. 

Oh God. I started laughing because my thoughts were definitely going off the deep end. I couldn’t believe that I’d just compared us to a Disney movie and a stupid fairy tale. If Brian knew, he would lock me up and throw away the key.

The laughter from my silly fairy tale thoughts had at least stopped the tears from flowing. I started thinking about all of Brian’s changes as I put my clothes back on. I picked up my scarf and wrapped it around my neck and suddenly remembered another item that symbolized a time where there had been a big change in Brian in terms of how he showed his feelings to me. And that was the scarf. That awful bloody scarf that I’d found around his neck that night that we made love for the first time after the bashing. 

I really thought about that and looking at the cowry shell bracelet on the ground at his feet, it hit me: the bloody scarf needed to be in the painting. Not to remind us of a time that is really hard for us to think about, but because it's important to the growth of our relationship. If the cowry shell bracelet and him taking it off was a sign that he had come to finally accept the feelings he had for me, then it was the bloody scarf, and him putting it on, that marked the time when he first realized that he had feelings for me at all. So I painted the scarf draped on the floor around my feet to represent that knowledge, and left the cowry shell bracelet there to represent acceptance. 

I wanted this painting to have meaning, but I just didn't know how much meaning it was going to end up having. I was emotionally wrecked as I put away my paints, washed out my brushes and finished cleaning up the studio. I called my professor to tell him that I was finished and he said he'd be right over to issue my grade and help me get it to the loft. It was 4:00, so I only had two hours to get it there before Brian came home from work. I sat down to wait for my professor and just stared at my work. Each face on that painting was a face of the man that I love and each painting showed why. I hoped that Brian saw all that.

It had been a lot of work in the last three days to get this painting done but apart from the first night when I'd had the shakes, my hand had cooperated really well. I held it up, wiggled my fingers and realized that it didn't even hurt. It should be cramping and shaking but it wasn't. I had no idea why, but I was relieved. 

*****

My professor graded the painting and I got an A. He said he could see that each of the faces were different, and that they each reflected a distinct aspect of the subject's personality. He was impressed with the details and thought that it showed that I had put a lot of thought into what I would paint to support each part of the personality. He said I had shown a real human study and had captured it on canvas. He was going to use this idea as a project for next semester and since I had already done it then I would be excused. But since I had to do something else, I could go ahead and finish the project that I had abandoned to do this one, and that would count as the grade. I certainly wasn't expecting my Christmas gift to Brian to give me a free ride next semester, but I was elated to say the least.

We loaded up the canvases into his truck and hauled them to the loft. When we walked in I noticed that there were two boxes by the door. One was full of my ornaments, and then I noticed that the string I'd hung up to dry them on had been taken down. The other box was full of Brian's gifts. I wondered why they were all packed up and made a mental note to ask Brian. It was Christmas Eve but I didn't think we were going to Deb's until Christmas Day.

My professor helped me hang them on the back wall, over by where the dining room table is. They were really big, but I thought they worked nicely in the large space. I thanked the professor again for like the hundredth time and he left. I took a shower to get all the paint off me, (how I got paint on my dick, I'll never understand) put my cotton robe on and waited for Brian. The anticipation was killing me. My hands were sweating and my stomach was doing flip-flops. I couldn't sit still, so I paced around the loft.

I was over by the kitchen when the loft door pulled open then slammed shut. Brian walked in and started tossing his briefcase and coat on the chair near his desk. "Hey Sunshine," he called out as he started to turn towards me. My breath caught in my throat. "...pack your..." he started to say but stopped when he saw me standing in front of my three...err...four Brians.

"Merry Christmas," I called out, my voice a little shaky. 

I raise my arms out then plopped them back against my thighs, making a muffled slapping sound. I cleared my throat. I couldn't tell his reaction. He was frozen in place...no expression whatsoever. Oh shit. I walked over to him and took his hands. "Brian? Come see." I pulled on his arms, walking backwards towards the painting. 

He walked with me and after a few steps, his eyes turned towards mine. His eyes were shifting rapidly back and forth between my right eye and my left. 

I smiled at him. "Brian?" I asked again. Still no reaction. The man was dumbfounded. I started laughing. "Brian, you're killing me here. What do you think?"

His eyes shifted back to the painting and finally he spoke, "I don't know what to think, Justin."

"Do you like it?"

"It's really big." 

I giggled. Okay, so he was overwhelmed. It was really big. "Yes, it is. Larger than life, I think. Just like you." I kissed his cheek.

He huffed and seemed to answer as a matter of instinct. "Is that so?"

"Yep."

"I need to sit down," he admitted.

I laughed under my breath. I wasn't trying to mean or insensitive, but he was being so cute, I couldn't help it. It was just like the day they took all his stuff away. A sad, shocking moment, yet he handled it with grace...no pretense...no fake put-on front. Just Brian. The real Brian, the one beneath all the bullshit. I had penetrated that and I couldn't help but be happy. I pulled out a chair from the dining room table and placed it in front of the paintings. I pulled on his arm and pushed him down into the chair. 

He kind of plopped and started looking over the paintings. His eyes were moving very slowly over the whole thing, taking it all in. I watched his eyes float over the professional Brian and a slight smile formed on his lips. He shifted to the hero Brian and his face straightened up. I could tell he was bothered. He stared at the bottom part where the posters were and undeniably he was thinking about all that his involvement with Stockwell had cost him. He sighed and moved to him and Gus and the smile returned. Then to him and me. He was staring at the Brian and Justin on the painting with that look that always gets to me. I really wanted to know what he was thinking but when I saw his eyes travel down and settle on the bracelet and the scarf, I got worried about what this would do to his mood and started to back away from him.

He grabbed my arm and pulled me to him. He turned me around and lifted my robe. "Perfect likeness," he said, then he kneaded my cheeks in his hands. 

This is good, I thought, so I giggled then turned around in his arms. I was so worried that the scarf would bring up the bad feelings, but he was joking around so that was good. I looked down at him and we both smiled. He looked back to the painting and his smile faded. He opened my robe, snaked his arms around my hips, laid his head against my stomach and squeezed me tight. His breathing got raspy and broken. I ran my fingers through his hair and he squeezed tighter, pushing the air out of my lungs and making hard it to get a breath in. He'd never held me that tight before and I was getting light headed.

"Brian?" I forced myself to say. His hold loosened and I sucked in a big gasp of air. Then he repositioned his arms and tightened them again.

"I don't know what to say, Justin. It's too much. I'm a little overwhelmed. That's not who I am."

I fought to release his grip and he finally relented. I straddled his lap and sat down then took his face in my hands. His eyes were glassy and glazed over. Oh my god! 

"It's who you are to me," I responded trying to be reassuring and comforting.

"You're delusional," he said, not joking around.

"No, I'm not," I argued back. "I know you, Brian Kinney, and you are all those things. You're a successful business man, you're a sacrificing, fearless hero, not only to me but to this whole damn community." 

He rolled his eyes and shook his head. 

I went on, with more conviction. "...AND you're a wonderful father and the best fucking boyf...no, fuck that, partner that any one could ever have. Do you hear me?" 

Then I kissed him. He held back for few minutes, but when I pushed my tongue into his mouth, he finally gave in and kissed me back first angrily, then passionately. 

He pulled away when we needed air and after we each took in a few heavy breathes, he said in a shaky voice, "What did I ever do to deserve you?"

I was still panting when I answered. "You looked at me and asked me if I'd had a busy night."

He laughed an uneasy kind of laugh. "It was that easy, huh?" 

"Yep." 

I was glad for the break in the tension. I remembered when Brian had shown his jealousy over Michael and me, and we had made him apologize. Michael had said something about liking Brian better shameless and unapologetic. I laughed at that then, but this moment was very similar. Brian was overwhelmed and feeling unworthy. He's been that way before, but he's never verbally expressed it so when he did, I found myself feeling very uncomfortable. 

He tightened his arms again and laid his head on my shoulder. I played with his hair trying to offer comfort or something. 

"Thank you," he said quietly.

"For what?" I was almost scared to ask.

"For seeing me." 

Oh god.

I wrapped my arms around him, and then it was me who squeezed him. He saw what I was trying to tell him in the painting. My heart was full, and I felt my eyes tear up. I wanted to make love to him right then and there so I could show him how I felt. This wasn't just that horny must-fuck-now feeling, it was about needing the connection that was happening between us (although my dick stirred just the same).

I felt him chuckle against my body so I pulled back. "What?"

"It's really big, Justin," he answered still slightly laughing.

I looked down at my hardened cock and chuckled with him. "Yes, it is."

He laughed again and swatted my ass. "Not that, you nympho, the paintings.” Then his smile faded again. He took my gimp hand in his and started rubbing it. “You shouldn’t have done this.”

“I wanted to. I wanted to show you…to tell you that I…”

“Are you okay?” he asked, cutting me off before I could say something that we never say out loud.

“That’s the amazing part, Brian. I think the first day I had problems because it wasn’t just your painting. I was working on the ornaments too and they’re small, so they're more detailed and harder to hold on to. And I had a school project to finish as well. It was too much. But when I was working on just yours, I didn’t have any pain or cramps at all. See?” I wiggled my fingers in his hand. “Just working on you made the cramps go away.” 

I pulled my hand away, moved it between his legs underneath me and rubbed it against him. “Working on you has never been a problem.” I leaned in next to his ear and whispered in my best sexual drawl. “No matter how big it is.” And it started to get bigger in my grasp.

He chuckled again and pulled my hand away. “Hmm, well, if people thought I had a big ego before, this will definitely convince them now."

"Well, you can just tell them that Brian Kinney doesn't do anything half-assed." We both laughed. Thank god. I took his face in my hands again. Now was the time to ask. "You like it? Seriously."

"Yes, I like it. And thanks for painting your backside up there instead of my boney ass."

"You don't have a boney ass."

"Compared to yours, I do," he said with his tongue in his cheek and his hands reaching down to cup my ass.

I huffed. "Well I think your ass is perfect."

"Mmmm, no, my dick is perfect. But not my ass. You, on the other hand, have the perfect ass."

"Maybe that's why we're so perfect together. Your dick and my ass." I kissed him again as he growled in his throat. He definitely kissed me back before I broke away with a huge smile on my face. "And it’s good the other way too.”

“Yes, it, is,” he said matter-of-factly with equal emphasis on each word.

“But why thank me for putting my butt on there instead of yours?"

"So I can look at it even when you're not here." I smiled at him. He cocked his head to the side as if he just had a thought. "But...we'll need a big cover for it for when we have company, 'cause there's no way I'm letting every fucking fag in town ogle your perfectly shaped bubble butt."

Really? Hmm. "Well, we're not covering it up. It's a work of art. So if you don't want anyone ogling my bare butt, then I guess you can't be having every fucking fag in town over anymore. Now can you?"

"Shit, I knew there was a catch to this whole thing. Damn!!" 

I moved my hand from his cheek to cover his whole face and pushed his head back. Asshole.

"Oh shit!" he exclaimed scaring the bejeezus out of me. 

"What?"

"What time is it? Fuck."

"I don't know. 6:30?"

He slapped my thigh. "Get up, get up. We've gotta go." He pushed me off his lap.

"Go? Go where?" I was stunned. What the hell was going on? It was like a tornado just swept through the loft, twisting and turning him in every direction. I was having a hard time keeping track of where he was at.

"No time to explain. Here." He threw my pants and shirt that were on the floor at me. Of course, those were dirty and I'd taken a shower so I just threw them back down. "You need to pack. Get moving. All your warm clothes. Enough for two weeks." 

Two weeks? What the fuck? 

He dragged the suitcases out of the closet and threw them on the bed. I stood there confused. "Come on Sunshine, MOVE IT!!"

I don't know what it was...the urgency in his voice or just because his wildness was rubbing off on me but I suddenly got it in gear. I grabbed some clean clothes and got dressed as fast as I could. I started throwing my clothes in the big suitcase without even folding them.

Through the chaos as we packed, he explained we were going on a trip for Christmas and we were dropping all the gifts at Deb's tonight for her to pass out on Christmas Day, then we were headed to the airport for a 9:30 flight. 

I stopped dead in my tracks. The airport? Holy shit. 

"Come on...no time to daydream," he said pulling me out of my haze. 

Brian took the overnight bag into the bathroom, shoved everything that was on the counter into it then ran around to the nightstand, dumped the whole drawer-full of condoms into the bag and two full bottles of lube. I gulped probably a little louder then I meant to and he laughed. 

He pulled the bottom drawer out and started sifting through all the toys. He picked a few and tossed them in the bag. No way was I going to be the one to carry that overnight bag through security at the airport. They search bags these days. Can you imagine? Two men with a bag full of condoms, lube and dildos. No fucking way. He could carry it.

I pulled the underwear drawers out and emptied mine then his into the suitcase. I grabbed the second suitcase and stuffed it with as many of his clothes as I could. I tried to grab a mixture of nice and casual, but fuck, I was in a hurry so I had no idea what I actually grabbed. But with as many condoms as he packed, I didn't think we'd be going out much anyway so I didn't worry about it.

"Ready?" he said as he closed the suitcases and zipped them up. He grabbed the big one and the overnight bag and headed for the door. I pulled my shoes on then grabbed the other suitcase and my coat and followed him.

We packed up the car then ran back upstairs to double-check all the turn-offs and to lock up. I grabbed his arm. I just needed a minute to catch my breath and soak in what was happening.

"Brian? Who planned this? What are we doing? Where are we going? When are we coming back? Why are we going on a trip? I gotta call my mom." 

He stared at me for a minute like he couldn't believe that I wasn't with the program yet and I felt a little silly. He let out a big sigh. "Justin...what did you say to me when I got home?"

"Huh? Ummm. Hi? Hey?" I think I was guessing.

"No, what was the first thing you said when I looked at you?"

Ohhh. "Merry Christmas?"

"Right. Well, Merry Christmas. This is your present. The trip. It's all planned out. I called your mom so she knows all about it. Deb fixed your schedule at the diner so your shifts are covered. I took care of everything and made all the arrangements. I just wasn't planning on you surprising me with your gift. So we're a little behind schedule."

I turned to look at the paintings. He snuck up behind me. "They're wonderful Justin, you know that. You couldn't have gotten me anything better and I'm going to look at them great detail when we get back and everyday for the rest of my life. But if we don't go right fucking now, we're gonna miss our plane and your present will be ruined!"

Even when he's pissy, he still always seems to say something that just makes me swoon. I'm so easy. I turned around and kissed him. "Where are we going?"

"Somewhere I should have taken you a long time ago. Can we go now? Please?"

I said yes immediately and we rushed out the door. If he'd put half the thought into my gift that he had into everyone else's then I knew there was no fucking way that I wanted it ruined.

*****

So, that's how we got to where we are right now. I'm laying here naked on a bear-skinned rug in front of a raging fire in a little log cabin in the middle of the snow-covered woods of Vermont on Christmas evening. We've fucked, had sex, made love so many times since we got here that I can't count that high. Well, actually I can, it's been five, and I remember every one of them vividly. I'm starting to wonder if we'll ever even go skiing...no wait, I don't really care. I just wanted to be here with Brian and now I am...almost nine months to the day since I'd asked him to bring me here. I roll over onto my side and face the fire. Ever since the season started and we had that talk about gift giving and the spirit of Christmas, things have been different between us. I can't really explain it. We're still the same...we tease and laugh and we still have wild intense sex in addition to the softer stuff, but I feel...different. He's making me feel different, and it’s like he looks at me in a different way now. I don't know. I just don't see how this Christmas could get any better. 

I hear Brian pad across the wooden floor, and I roll onto my back to look up at him. He's standing over me and looking down at me with his hands behind his back. Even looking at him upside down, he's still the most beautiful creature in the world. He's tall but right now, being flat on the floor, he looks twenty feet tall and I feel so small looking up at him. And even with his dick soft and flaccid, because it's closer to me than his face is, it's looks huge in comparison. It makes me smile; I'm such a perv. He grins at me, and even though we're in Vermont, a long ways from the Pitts, it still feels like home. 

"Ready for your real Christmas present?" he asks.

I sit straight up and turn around. "Huh?"

"Ready for your real present?" he asked again. 

"Brian, are you high?" I ask him, wondering what the fuck he's talking about. There isn't anything he could possibly give me now that would top what he's already done. "We're in Vermont for two whole weeks, just you and me. Fourteen days. THIS IS my Christmas present." I stand up in front of him, step up on my toes, wrap my arms around his neck and kiss him. "The very best Christmas present, by the way," I add when I break the kiss.

"Mmm," he acknowledges, and then he nods his head in agreement and pulls his lips into his mouth. "But this...is just, I don't know, atmosphere?" He shrugs. 

I pull back my head to get a better look at his face. He seems unsure or conflicted or something, but regardless, he's hiding something behind his back and he's teasing me so I smile.

"What are you doing, Brian?" I ask all confused, then I remember, his hands are behind his back. "What have you got?" 

His serious look fades and he raises his eyebrows and starts laughing. I strain my head and my arms around behind him to see and to grab. He pulls away, twisting in the opposite direction that I'm trying to grab in. I almost get it and he lifts his hand above his head. He has a little box wrapped in silver paper. I try to reach it, giggling. He's laughing at me because I can't. He's so damn tall. No fair.

"Want it?" he teases. I pull on his arm. 

"Yes," I say with determination, reaching a little higher. He stretches further up. He's not playing fair so I tickle him and he lowers his arm. I reach for it but he switches hands. 

"Briiiiaaaan," I whine and he laughs again. I reach up to kiss him and he kisses me back. His arms come down and wrap around me, but with his tongue in my mouth, I suddenly don't care about the gift and just want to kiss him some more and throw another match into the fire. 

Brian bought a box of 100 long matches and said we'd throw one in the fire after every time we had sex. The plan was to be out of matches when the two weeks were up. Eh. It was a challenge. I calculated it out...we'd have to fuck or suck seven times a day every day that we're here and still have two matches left over to get rid of the morning that we have to leave. I'm glad we took an extra week off after we get back before I have to go back to school and Brian back to work, because I think by then, we're going to need some time to recuperate.

I get a little lost in the kiss and my dick starts getting hard...I press it against him. He breaks the kiss, leaving me breathless, and I sigh. 

"Hey, I thought you wanted your present?"

I break into a smile and squeeze on his ass. "This IS my present," I say with smirk.

"Mmmm, yes," he agrees with a smirk of his own. "But that's not the one I'm talking about." 

He holds up the silver wrapped box. "Remember this one?" And he shakes it in front of my face.

"Yes, I remember," I tell him, still smiling, and I grab the box out of his hand and back away. 

He reaches for me and I pull it away. 

"Justin, wait." The tone of his voice stops me dead in my tracks...he seems serious all of a sudden.

"What?"

"I think we should sit down." He rubs his hands through his hair. "I think I should sit down." 

And he does, in the middle of the bear-skinned rug.

I'm suddenly feeling a bit worried. "Brian, what's wrong?" 

I sit down in front of him, put the box in my lap and reach for his hands.

He thinks for a minute, turning to look into the fire. I put my hand on his chin and turn his face back to me. 

"What?" I ask again.

He smiles that devilish smile and shrugs his shoulders. 

"Nothing. You gonna open that now, or what?" He picks up a match from the fireplace and waves it in front of my face.

So now I'm wondering...he gets all serious...plays and teases...then serious again...now he's trying to turn our attention to sex. Something's up but I just don't know what. He seems so conflicted about this gift. I'm trying really hard to take it in stride. It could be something meaningful and I feel goose bumps run down my legs. But this is Brian so it could be a new sex toy just as easily. 

"You want me to open it? Now?"

"Well, I gave it to you, didn't I? Come on...I want to throw another match in the fire. Like now." 

He points his finger in my chest and drags it down over my stomach. It tickles and I pull my stomach in. He moves it lower and touches my dick. It twitches and he laughs as he pulls his hand away. I'm thinking sex toy. 

I grab his finger and reach over to kiss him. I pull away and smile as I pick up the box and shake it against my ear. I wiggle my eyebrows and he rolls his eyes. 

"Just open it, twat."

I push on his shoulder and start tearing at the paper. I'm very curious and my heart is beating faster. I get the paper off; it's just a plain white box and doesn't give me a clue as to what is inside. All the emotions that I used to have as kid come flooding back to me…the excitement, the anticipation. My heart is literally racing. He did so well with everyone's gift and the Vermont trip for me was the absolute best, but he said this was my real present, that the trip was just 'atmosphere'. I just can't imagine what it could be. My hand is shaking as I place it on the lid. I pause and look at him. He's still smiling and nudges my knee to urge me on.

“It’s not as good as the gift you gave me, but…” he mumbles as I lift the lid and pull back the paper. My breath hitches and my eyes narrow. It's a cowry shell bracelet, but not like his, it's different. I don't really understand because I haven't seen Brian wear his in like forever...so why would he get me one? I look up at him and I think he knows I'm confused. 

"Take it out and look at it, Justin."

I do what he says. The cowry shells look kind of beat up like they're not really new. They are in the middle and are surrounded by small beads in a row on both sides. I run my fingers over them and look at him again. He's still smiling. There's something I'm just not getting here. I turn it over and then I get it. The last shell has the initials BK on it. This is Brian's bracelet, but it's been changed.

I run my finger over the shell with his initials. "I had it altered some," he says.

"Yeah, I see that. But why?"

"Because it's not me anymore and I wanted you to have it."

"Why? What does this mean?"

"You don't like it? The beads are blue and you look good in blue." He takes it out of my hand and places it on my wrist. "See?" He turns my hand over and ties it. 

"No, I like it..." My voice trails off as the touch of his hand captures my attention. It's so surreal...like we've done this before...only differently.

He turns my wrist back over. "Just look at it, Justin and you'll see."

I stare at it and concentrate. There's something there that he wants me to see. I know his bracelet had eight shells and this one only has seven so he had one taken off. Because my wrist is smaller? The beads are blue. There's twelve on one side and twelve on the other. Twenty-four beads, seven shells. I can feel my bottom lip start to quiver and my allergies kick in. I look up at him with wet, glassy eyes and smile. He's smiling back. 

There was a movie that we watched a few weeks ago. It was a love story and I had to fight to keep Brian awake to watch the whole thing. In the movie when the main characters decide to get married, he has her wedding band specially made. He put seven diamonds in a cluster in the center and then twenty-four smaller diamonds in rows on either side. It was a surprise and she didn't know about it but that's not the romantic part. On their honeymoon, he tells her to take the ring off and look at the inscription. "I love you 24/7" was engraved inside and then she suddenly understood, it wasn't just a beautiful setting; the stones had significance. I remember getting teary at that part and hearing Brian snore so I had nudged him awake. The next day he couldn't even tell me the main characters' names so I didn't figure that he'd paid any attention. He obviously had. 

I feel a lump in my throat and I'm not sure if I can speak, but I try and to my surprise, my voice works fine. "It's like that movie...you..." then my voice cracks "love me...24/7. Twenty-four…hours…a day…seven…days...a week." 

I can barely talk, but I'm grinning bigger and bigger and my cheeks are starting to hurt.

Brian lets out a deep breath. He was holding his breath? I have to play this cool…this is huge and he was obviously wrecked over giving it to me. Now he's smiling like he's relieved that he didn't die when I opened it. He's keeping himself together quite well despite all the indecision he had earlier. I have to try to keep it together myself, but my heart is beating so fast. I feel like I may pass out. God, we're a couple of drama queens. 

Then he smirks. "Hmmm, no, it's more like I want to fuck you seven times in every twenty-four hour period." 

He holds up a match and wiggles it. "Why did you think I bought the matches? The matches are getting thrown in the fire so they'll be gone. The bracelet is the reminder of our trip and how I fucked your brains out for fourteen days..." he pauses and his eyebrows twitch like he's searching for just the right word...then... "…straight." 

I should be crushed, but that was kind of cute in the delivery and besides, it doesn't seem to sit with me. Altering his bracelet, buying the matches...all to mirror that movie? Now this lame explanation...it seems kind of prepared, like he's pitching to me. I've seen him in action in the boardroom; I know how he performs. I look at him and narrow my eyes. He grins that grin. I know that grin...he's lying. Smart ass.

I huff at him. "You should stick to honesty and integrity, Brian, because you suck at lying and deceitfulness." 

"Is that so?"

"Yeah." I lean over to kiss him.

"Oh well, if I'm lying then you must be right...it's just like that movie." 

He looks away and into the fire. His eyes shift to me, then back to the fire.

The lump in my throat comes back. This was way better than my paintings. 

"I love it." I crawl into his lap. "The bracelet." I kiss his cheek. "The seven shells and the twenty-four blue beads." I kiss his eyes and his forehead. "The matches." I run my fingers through his hair and hold his face in my hands. I kiss his mouth, plunging my tongue inside, holding his face steady so he can't pull away. When I finally do..."The atmosphere here in Vermont. I love it all." 

I kiss him again and he rolls us over onto the rug. He hovers over me with that look and I gasp and swallow. 

I know now why he needed to sit down...I know how hard this was for him to do. I think about my painting again and I realize that the message that he’s giving me with his gift is the same one that my painting was meant to give to him. You’d think it’d be easier for us to just say it instead of trying to find all these outlandish ways that we come up with to show it. But we don’t. It’s not that easy for us. I want to tell him that I love him too and I open my mouth to try. “Brian, I…” The words just don’t flow; I swallow and settle on, "…I'm never taking it off. Never."

His smile fades and he stares at me for what seems like forever. I swallow that lump, and Brian is starting to look like he's in a fish bowl. I blink and it rolls over my temple. 

"Good," he says, and I sniffle with a half smile.

He sits back on his feet and brushes the hair out of my eyes before wiping the tear away with his thumb. He smiles. "Justin?"

"Huh?" I whimper.

He holds up that match again. "Seven a day. I think we have two left for tonight."

I giggle at him and wipe off my face. He hands me the match, reaches for a condom, hoists my legs over his shoulders and bends down to kiss me, folding me in half. The air pushes out of me and into him and after a few minutes we break apart, out of breath and dizzy. As he readies to push into me for the whatever'th time today...I throw the match into the fire and the bracelet jiggles on my wrist with the toss. I hold it up in the air and look at it against the light of the fire and let it's meaning sink into my brain as he sinks into my ass. He pulls on my thighs and buries himself deeper inside me. “Brian, I just love…” I arch my back and let out a moan... “...Christmas.

* * *

Author's Notes: My brother, who is a professional artist, has been commissioned to paint Justin's painting. It is not done yet, because unlike Justin, he can not paint a full painting in just four days...LOL...for information about seeing his rendition of The Three Faces of Brian or getting a limited edition print of it...email me!


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